New Rules
by DaeDreemer
Summary: It's a brave new world and Blair has always been one to play by the rules.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Gossip Girls._

**Author's Note**: Set after "The Serena Also Rises."

* * *

"Miss Blair, you sure… this a good idea?"

Blair studied her reflection in the mirror for a moment longer, before saying softly, firmly, "Yes, Dorota."

Dorota shook her head, "Your Mama, Miss Blair, she not like this…"

"It's only hair, Dorota, it will grow back."

Dorota hesitated for another moment and then she began to snip at Blair's dark curls.

Blair would go to a salon in the morning, get it cut professionally, but she needed to do this now, before she talked herself out of it, before she let herself pretend tonight had never happened.

Because it had happened; and she could not let herself forget it, _would_ not let herself.

The dark curls fell onto the floor easily, no fuss. So much time and energy expended to make them look perfect and they disappeared so easily.

She closed her eyes, didn't want to see them fall anymore. She'd seen enough things fall tonight, seen enough disappear.

_My whole life, I have been bending over backwards to protect your feelings._

The words wouldn't stop repeating themselves in her mind. The look in Serena's eyes wouldn't fade.

_It's not my fault you're so insecure._

She clenched her jaw, squeezing her eyes shut tighter.

_I'm tired of trying to hold myself back so I don't outshine you._

She tensed all over, fisted her hands tight, because she would not cry. She was not going to break. Serena had already broken her once, it wouldn't happen again.

"I's done Miss Blair." Dorota said softly.

And Blair slowly opened her eyes. The tips of her hair brushed her chin. It made her look different. Older.

She tilted her face a little, studied her reflection intently, ignoring the way Dorota fidgeted behind her. All her features were the same of course, it was only a haircut—not even a professional one; her eyes were still the same deep brown, still framed by full lashes, her nose still tipped upwards, her mouth still formed a perfect bow, her chin was still pointed, her cheekbones still high—the change was only an illusion.

"Do you like, Miss Blair?"

Blair nodded, pulling her eyes away from the mirror, "Yes, Dorota. You did well."

She stood then without another word to leave the bathroom so Dorota could sweep the floor. She stepped carefully around the curls, still perfectly coifed, that lay at her feet.

She made her way up to her room, to her own bathroom so she could shower. She studiously avoided even a glance at the commode.

She wouldn't break again. Not for Serena.

Her shower was hot; almost scalding, it made her skin pink and sensitive to the touch.

She was dressed in her nightgown, sitting at her make-up table, ready to brush her hair, when the words echoed again in her mind.

_My whole life, I have been bending over backwards to protect your feelings._

She picked up her hair brush and ran it through her short hair.

Isn't that what friends did, protect one another's feelings?

_It's not my fault you're so insecure._

The tears welled despite her best efforts and she pressed the bristles of the brush into her scalp as she willed the away.

How else could she feel when to everyone in her world Serena was the first choice?

_I'm tired of trying to hold myself back so I don't outshine you._

She slammed the brush hard onto the dresser, relishing the sound it made in the silent room, glaring at herself in the mirror.

"I'm tired of cleaning up your messes. I'm tired of catching you when you fall. I'm tired of helping the world think the illusion is real." She hissed out loud at her reflection, not caring that there was no one to hear her, not caring that she was talking to herself.

Because this was how you said those truths, to yourself, in the privacy of your room. Because they were the sort of truths you didn't say, the kind that lay dormant in every friendship, because once you exposed them to the light… it changed everything.

Serena had changed the rules of the game overnight.

But Blair wasn't going to break. If she let herself fall this time, there would be no one to catch her, if she let herself fall she would be destroyed—and she wasn't going to be destroyed by Serena.

Not when S was playing one game, while B had been playing another.

No. If S was going to win, then it would be after.

After B tried her own hand with these new rules. These rules where the sacred truths learned in childhood were exploited, were usable weapons.

The haircut was a reminder to herself; it was a brave new world out there and she wouldn't be caught unawares again.

She stood and slowly made her way to her bed. She slipped in under the covers and slid her eye-mask carefully into place.

Serena was good at hiding the unsure, easily mislead, conflicted girl behind the illusion of the confident party girl; and whenever she slipped, when the hesitancy and irresolution had led her to drunken ramblings and blackouts, Blair had caught her. Because that's what friends did, that's what sisters did.

But Serena had changed everything, she had said the truths you didn't say and now there was no safety net, there was no one catch the other when one fell.

The rules were different now and B had always been one to play by the rules.

* * *

TBC.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Gossip Girls._

**Author's Note**: I'm not as finished as I thought I was with this story, its coming together as something a bit bigger than I planned. Hope you enjoy. Thank you for the reviews, I really appreciate them.

* * *

The murmurs started almost as soon as she rounded the corner eerily reminiscent of the last time she'd come to school dethroned.

She ignored the memories of that day, of who was with her that day, and tilted her chin up higher, smiling at a group of underclassman as she walked past them.

She'd called her stylist at 5:30 AM, requesting an emergency session. The woman had been aghast at what Blair had _done to her gorgeous hair_. Blair had sat in the chair and told her to fix it, told her to layer it, told her to ensure there wasn't one single curl.

Her hair fell to her chin in straight strands coming around to frame her face in a way that it hadn't done in years.

She spotted Serena and the others quickly; they stood in the same spot as always. She made her way over.

They stopped talking when she reached them. And she bestowed on them a bright smile, "Good Morning." She chirped.

"Blair! Your hair!" Hazel nearly yelled, eyes wide.

Penelope frowned, "What happened to it?"

"You cut it?" Iz remarked, "You didn't tell us you were going to cut it!"

Nelly Yuki tilted her head a little, "You look so different."

Serena remained silent, but Blair could feel her friends gaze studying her.

Blair shrugged, still smiling, "Don't you like it?"

They all studied her for a moment longer and then it was Serena that answered. "It looks good, B." She said softly; too softly… her voice hinting at an, _I'm sorry_ that Blair wasn't going to heed.

Blair let her smile widen in Serena's direction. "Thank you!" She responded and shook her head a little, letting the hair fly away from her face a bit.

"You forgot a headband, though." Nelly Yuki stated, eyeing Blair's head quizzically.

Yes, she had.

"Huh," she said in soft surprise, reaching up and patting her hair, "You're right." She laughed lightly, "I don't think this outfit needs one though, does it?"

The shocked silence that ensued would have been laughable, if Blair didn't feel quite so serious inside. She always wore a headband, _every _outfit needed one. But Blair had given a lot of thought to this new game while in her stylist's chair. New game, new rules, new Serena…it could all only equal a new Blair.

"No, it doesn't." Serena answered voice still soft.

Blair shifted and looked her sister in the eyes. She kept her smile just as bright, but knew Serena could see the seriousness inside her, the stillness that was suddenly at the core of her being.

"I thought it was time for a change." B told S and watched something flicker in S's eyes.

It wasn't a declaration of war; that was the old game. She would play this new game slowly, quietly; because Serena was an unsure, easily mislead, conflicted girl and in the old game, B knew this and hid it, protected her, made sure no saw past the illusion—but now, well…

Serena was nodding at her, eyes asking _what's going on, what are you up to?_ But Blair only turned her smile up a notch before shifting away from Serena and looking at the others. She let her gaze rest on Penelope a moment before gushing, "Oh Penelope I love your beads!" Because she actually did, "They look great with that blouse," she added, because they did.

… now B would do nothing.

She would stand back and watch S falter and stutter with the weight of the crown, with the weight of keeping up the illusion, with knowledge of having no safety net beneath her.

"Oh, uh, thanks…" Penelope replied, fingering the beads with a slightly confused look on her face.

Who knew being nice would cause such stupor among her former ladies-in-waiting? It was almost amusing. Almost.

"I have to meet Mr. Simmons before class," she continued smoothly, "I'll see you all later" she finished lightly, tossing one more wide smile at the entire group and then she slid away without a backwards glance.

She could feel them watching her, could feel S watching her; wondering what she was up to, what the scheme was; what direction her destruction was coming from.

B let the smile on her face fade when she was out of sight. There was nothing fun about this game, nothing to smile about.

To win this game, she was going to have to let her sister fall_. _

And despite everything, she didn't consider that something to smile about it.

* * *

TBC.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Gossip Girls. _

**Author's Note**: Due to the change in style, I made this a separate chapter. Thank you for reading.

* * *

When it happens three weeks later, when Serena stumbles, Blair can't follow through with nothing, she can't stand back and watch her fall.

She thinks maybe that makes her weak, but when Serena calls-- confused, disoriented, asking her where Poppy was and how did you get out of here, Blair slides into her role without a backwards glance.

She finds Serena at a club, pays one of the security guards to bring her out to Blair, and then herds her best friend into a taxi.

Serena is frazzled, upset, and Blair soothes; tells her it's going to be okay, there's nothing to worry about, that they're going home.

Serena believes her, drops her head onto Blair's shoulder and closes her eyes, trusts the safety net to catch her.

In the Bass apartment, Blair carefully maneuvers Serena up to her room. The routine is so familiar, so easy, she can do it with her eyes closed.

And when Serena is in the shower after puking up god knows what into the toilet, Blair does close her eyes. She closes them and leans back against the wall next to the door and she cries.

When the shower stops, she goes back in and helps Serena into her nightgown, guides her friend to her bed, tucks her in.

All the while, Serena is babbling—apologizing, explaining, wondering, apologizing again and finally declaring that she loves Blair, she really does.

Blair nods, agrees, smoothes back Serena's hair, tells her to get some rest, that things will be better in the morning.

Chuck's waiting by the doorway when she leaves the room. She hasn't spoken more than a few words at a time to him this school year, hasn't been completely alone with him since last year.

He takes a step towards her, his face impassive as it usually is. "You came through for her, Waldorf." He murmurs it and she catches a touch of surprise in his voice.

She doesn't wonder how he knows that Serena needed help, how he knows that Serena reached out to her; she doesn't wonder how he knows about the new game, how he knows that she failed at it.

"You always will won't you." He states and his hand comes up to touch her face.

She doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't bother trying to stop her tears.

"Even when you don't want to," he continues and gently wipes a tear away with his thumb. He leans into her space and whispers, "Why?"

She pulls back, resolutely not missing the heat of his fingers on her face. He's waiting for her answer, watching her, _seeing _her the way no one ever does.

"I don't know." She confesses and the words rip their way out of her throat, sounding jagged and broken.

He says nothing, just continues to watch her, and Blair wonders if he's waiting to see her shatter.

When he takes her hand, she lets him. When he pulls her to him, she doesn't fight him. When he leads her to his own bedroom, to his own bed, she follows.

* * *

TBC.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Gossip Girls._

**Author's Note**: Thank you for all the wonderful comments! I really appreciate them.

* * *

She woke entangled in sheets and his arms; the weight of him, the heat of him, trapping her against the mattress.

Yesterday rose up quickly in her mind, pressed upon her the memories of a disorientated Serena and the crushing sense of duty she couldn't run from. Her breath hitched at the memory, a moment later Chuck shifted against her and she grimaced realizing there was no way for her to escape without waking him.

So she closed her eyes and waited.

She couldn't say how much time slipped by before she felt his head lift, but she made sure to hold herself perfectly still as he tilted back away from her; even when as she felt the weight of his gaze on her face, even when she felt his fingertips brush over her cheeks she remained still.

"I know you're awake, Waldorf." He said after a long moment of stillness.

Of course he did.

She debated for an instant whether she should play the fool or not; decided on not. She opened her eyes.

He was watching her. Sometimes it felt like he was always watching her.

"Let me up." She whispered.

He smirked. "Good morning to you too."

She said nothing more, just waited. She had lost the game last night; it had been a perfect opportunity, as if she had orchestrated it herself, but she had failed, had let the moment slip through her fingers. She hadn't been strong enough to not care.

"You aren't going to tell me you think what we did last night was wrong, are you?" He asked her.

She blinked at him, she had resolutely not given what they'd done _any _thought. "No, I'm not. Let me up." She repeated, voice tight.

But something inside her was unraveling, edges that had just been frayed, were coming undone; because she was weak, she had lost this game.

The welling of tears shocked them both.

She turned her head. He didn't move. The silence enveloped them.

She could feel the way his eyes were roving over her face, examining her, trying to figure her out. It was easier to focus on what he must be thinking than to focus on what she was thinking... or wasn't thinking.

One of his hands was in her hair suddenly, his fingertips rubbing at her scalp softly.

"Did I tell you...? I like your haircut." He murmured.

He hadn't.

She'd had it trimmed earlier this week, short hair required more maintenance than long. She turned her face back to him, reached up and slipped her own fingers into his hair; it was soft and smooth and she didn't know what she was doing here in Chuck Bass's bed playing with his hair…

Because she'd lost at the game, even playing by the new rules, because she hadn't let her fall… and she'd wanted to, but she couldn't… and she didn't know why…

And she had followed _Chuck Bass _to his bed, hadn't fought him, had let him take her hand... she squeezed her eyes shut and forced her thoughts away from that path. Instead she whispered, "Thank you," and then reached up and kissed him. She pulled him down closer and willed the world to vanish, willed herself to fall into his kiss, to be swept away like she had been last night.

But he pulled away from her; yanked himself up off her and the bed in one fluid motion.

He was frowning at her, looking actually confused. "What is going on with you?" He demanded.

She blinked at him again, used the sheet to cover herself as she sat up, and then looked around the room. "What time is it?" She wondered.

She started shifting towards the edge of the bed, "Are we late? God. Serena really needs to not party on Thursdays…"

"Blair."

He'd pitched his voice deep and scratchy, meant to snag her attention and it did. He was watching her with those dark eyes, _seeing _her, and Blair couldn't have that-- not right now.

She sent him an innocent look, bat her eyelashes once. "Would you hand me my dress, please." She murmured and slipped off the bed. She used the sheet as a toga while she scanned the room for her undergarments.

She wasn't going to think about how sweet Chuck had been last night, about how slow and gentle everything had been, about how he hadn't said the words, but she'd have to be blind to not have seen them in his every touch.

She gathered her clothing in one hand and then lifted her gaze to Chuck. He was holding her dress and shoes in one of his hands; but there was no smirk on his face, nothing teasing in his eyes.

It hit her with the force of a tidal wave—he was worried about her.

That was almost amusing. Almost.

She smiled at him as she outstretched her arm for him to drape the dress over. She let him keep the shoes and disappeared into his bathroom.

As soon as she closed the door, she slid to the floor, her back against it and drew her knees up to her chest.

What was going on with her, indeed.

* * *

TBC.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Gossip Girls. _

**Author's Note**: Thank you all so much for the kind reviews. I really appreciate them. In the next chapter, we will see Chuck/Blair. :)

* * *

Serena was looking for her-- three people had stopped her in the halls to tell her so.

That's what almost three weeks of being nice did; it made people comfortable with stopping you in the halls to talk.

She was, of course, studiously avoiding Serena.

She'd made a quick exit from the Bass suite. Chuck had been sitting on the sofa staring at the door when she'd left the bathroom. She had mustered as much dignity as she could while inside it, had quickly done what she could with her appearance.

Her retreat from Chuck's presence had been anything but graceful, she'd nearly stuttered as she'd reminded him that they had school and she needed to go home to shower and change. He had nodded at her, told her he had the driver waiting for her downstairs, then he had watched her as she'd practically run to the door.

Her descent down the stairs had been fast and silent; her escape had gone unnoticed, save for the driver who was experienced enough in such dealings to not twitch so much as an eyebrow when he'd opened the door for her.

"Hey Blair…"

Blair pulled up the friendly, approachable grin she had perfected and directed it at the young blonde approaching her. "Hi, hi, I know, I know… S's is looking for me…" she said lightly.

The girl shook her head, ducking it a little and actually blushing a bit, "No, no. Chuck is—_Chuck Bass_," she clarified with a touch of awe in her voice, "Is looking for you. He's in the courtyard."

"Oh." Blair's smile almost faltered, almost. "Okay, thank you."

The girl nodded and went on her way. Blair stared after a moment, before turning and heading in the opposite direction of the courtyard. Another Chuck encounter was not in the plan this morning. She checked her watch-- in another six minutes she could disappear into her class.

She had just rounded a corner when she and Serena simultaneously spotted each other. There was no way to pretend that their eyes hadn't met, no way to back away with dignity.

So Blair took a mental deep breath and didn't miss a step.

"Blair, I've been looking for you." She said hurriedly, her face scrunched up in that genuinely distressed expression she had. She wore no makeup and her hair was pulled back away from her face. She looked tired and upset, probably had one hell of a headache too.

Blair offered her, her perfected friendly approachable grin. "So I heard, but we have class to get to."

Serena shook her head, "Last night--"

"Class, Serena."

"Blair..." Serena touched her arm and Blair felt herself slip.

"No," she spat the word with more venom than she'd meant to let loose, her eyes dark and boring into Serena's. It was the first sharp thing she'd said to S since the night of her mother's fashion show.

She had been unfailingly polite and kind at school and hadn't seen her for more than a few minutes outside of Constance; she had ignored every attempt Serena had made to bring up that night—not that S had really _tried _to bring it up. When Serena wanted something discussed, she got it discussed.

Blair had played the game slowly, quietly—and she had still lost.

She shook off Serena's hand. "I have class." She said tightly and left Serena standing there, watching her.

* * *

When the lunch hour rolled around Blair found herself hesitating a moment before heading for the school steps to join the girls.

She had eaten lunch with S and the girls every day despite the new status quo; she hadn't wanted to give them anything to speculate about. The key to her success in this new game, was to not acknowledge the shift in power, to not see the way the crown now rested on golden locks rather than chocolate, and thus far it had worked. She had somehow become an unknown element within the group, they could sense she was no longer in charge, but they could also sense she was not out of play.

She didn't particularly _want _to sit with them today, but she also knew that avoiding them, avoiding Serena, would only add fuel to the fire. She didn't want to make an issue of last night. In fact during her AP Calculus class she had decided that the best course of action was to pretend that last night had not happened.

That _no part _of last night had happened.

Serena was already there when she reached the steps, surreptitiously eyeing the front door, waiting for her.

The girls were discussing the premiere of a new Broadway show.

Blair sat down with a chipper, "Hi," as she set her books next to herself and began opening her yogurt. They sent wan smiles her way and continued their conversation.

Blair wasn't following; she was planning her escape, which would take in approximately ten seconds.

She had already shifted minutely on the step when Serena spoke, voice softly commanding, "Hey, can you guys leave Blair and me alone, please."

The girls froze as if sensing blood in the water; they sat up straighter, hands already on their cell phones as they shot sharp glances between the two of them. Blair said nothing, kept her gaze straight ahead on the comings and goings of the street.

"Sure, S," Penelope simpered. The others nodded and murmured their assent.

"Everything okay?" Hazel asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Serena stated, her eyes on Blair—who was completely ignoring her.

Moments later S and B were alone.

Blair said nothing as Serena shifted closer to her, just stirred her yogurt and waited.

"Blair—would you _look _ at me."

And it was the pained, earnest tone she used that hit Blair's _fury _button.

She looked up and sent Serena a scathing look.

If S hadn't been so concerned with getting the right words out of her mouth, she might have recognized the flashing of danger signs in Blair's dark eyes. "Last night I got carried away, didn't think things through and everything just got so… I can't even remember it, really… and I wanted to--"

"You're actually going to sit there and _thank _ me?" Blair knew she sounded surprised, but sometimes even she couldn't comprehend the sheer audacity Serena carried around.

"Of course, I am!" Serena cried, "I know I said things that hurt you, but you still--"

"Came through for you." Blair cut in softly, echoing Chuck's words to her last night.

Serena nodded, blonde hair swishing around her face, "Yes and I've been trying… you've been avoiding me, putting up those— high walls and fake smiles you do and I've… I've let you because—"

"You've let me."

Serena nodded, still too focused on expressing herself to really see Blair's gaze. "Because I know that what I did..." she shook her head, cutting off her own sentence. "I want us to talk today— I mean not just about last night, but about everything—these past couple of weeks… about the night of the fashion show… I'm so sorry—about what I—I'm sorry I hurt you."

Blair blinked at her. Serena's blue eyes were radiating that sincerity that she produced sometimes, that ability to _need _so strongly you could feel it.

Somewhere, she could feel the others watching, waiting. It didn't matter if they'd heard or not, they could see Serena's face; knew something big was going down.

Playing the game quietly and slowly hadn't worked. B wasn't strong enough to let S fall. She would have to settle for taking her down.

"You could never hurt me, Serena. I'd have to be a fool to believe anything you say," she murmured, kept her voice low and hit that falsely sweet tone she knew conveyed pure disdain.

Serena reared back.

Blair smiled at her icily—and it felt good to use this particular smile. "You're treacherous, Serena; people as reckless as you always are."

"Blair, I--"

"You glide through life and leave the ones that can't keep up destroyed in your wake. Even when you do slow down, you can't stop yourself from breaking people —Dan should know."

Blue eyes filled with hurt, "That's not what happened--"

No, it wasn't, but the veracity of her words wasn't what was important here. She gave a careful shrug. "You're not nearly the iconoclast you like to pretend to be. You're as vain as the rest of us." She gave a meaningful glance towards Serena's new Marc Jacobs bag.

Serena shook her head. "You're only saying this because you're hurt. I know the things I said--"

Enough.

Blair stood, "Oh look at the time, Business Management awaits."

Serena stood too, "Blair, please! I'm _trying _here, okay. Don't do this."

She employed the same look on S she'd give Chuck earlier this morning. "Do what?"

"Don't pretend… let's stop pretending. We've pretended long enough. I hate it when we're not speaking."

Blair considered the statement. "Odd," she said, the same ice in her smile tainting her voice, "Because you know, if we're not speaking-- then I'm not holding you back."

Serena's entire body flinched.

Blair kept her face impassive as she continued, her voice becoming tight to keep emotions out of it. "You're free to… shine as brightly as you like… without having to…" she paused delicately, skimming her eyes over Serena's entire form before continuing. "Bend over backwards… to protect my… feelings."

She had to swallow hard after she said the words; even now, they hurt.

Serena took a step towards her. "I shouldn't have said that," she whispered, eyes tear-filled; and Blair suddenly felt violent-- wanted to scratch her eyes out because _sh__e _had no right to cry.

And this charade was going to fall to pieces around Blair in another heartbeat if she didn't get away—because, _no, _Serena shouldn't have. Because it hadn't been fair of her to say the things they never said, to change the game.

And pretending she didn't care, pretending it had never happened, was getting harder by the moment.

The school bell rang. Blair reached down and gathered her books in her arms.

She turned to head back up the steps; Serena reached out and stopped her with a hand on her arm. "That night…" she began, "These past few weeks, they've felt almost surreal… like I was watching myself spin away in a daydream or something. Every choice I made seemed right, but I only let myself think of it… on the surface… because that's easiest—and I… I needed easy… after… Dan. But then last night…" she drew in a hiccup of a breath, "B, I told myself I wasn't ever going to be that girl again. I promised myself I wouldn't be that gone ever again and then I was… I let myself spiral away… and I'm so scared that…" She trailed off, didn't finish the sentence because she didn't need to; because Blair knew what she was scared of.

Blair stared at her for a moment and then brusquely shook off Serena's hand and dropped, or maybe threw, her books onto the steps; giving up the charade, letting go of the game, dropping the illusions in favor of not _pretending._

"Why should I care?! Huh, Serena? Why?" She yelled at her, "You _hate_ that we aren't talking? Really? Because you didn't seem to hate it until you got a vivid, regurgitated memory of needing someone there to hold back your hair!" Blair cried and she didn't care if there were people who hadn't gone to class, who were waiting to see what S and B would do to each other.

"You're only _trying_ because you're afraid next time I won't answer the phone and you'll wake-up in the rat-ridden loft of some middle aged has-been with no memory of how you got there! Or maybe you're afraid that Gossip Girl will end up with pictures of you with vomit in your hair! Whatever! You're _trying _because you're afraid that the next time you spiral away I won't be there to stop it, that you'll just spin off into the abyss! But you didn't care for an entire _two weeks_ that we weren't talking!"

"I cared! I tried to get you to talk to me! I couldn't _reach _you! You locked up tight! I couldn't--"

"And whose fault is that!" Blair shouted.

Serena's mouth snapped shut.

Blair continued, "You're only trying now because you remember that you _need _me whether you _like _me or not! Whether you have to bend over backwards or not! Whether I'm threatened by you or not!"

Serena's eyes went wide and maybe even filled with anguish, not that Blair was acknowledging that.

"Which by the way," Blair spat, voice full of venom, but no longer yelling, "I'm _not." _She lifted her chin a hairsbreadth higher, "I am _Blair Waldorf._ I know my worth."

And she did, even if at times, she forgot it.

The chilly declaration was followed by silence.

"I was angry at you that night." Serena responded softly a few moments later as her tears spilled.

Blair looked away, had never liked to see Serena cry; had never liked for Serena to see her cry.

They were silent and still as statues for what felt like a long time; standing across from each other on the same step of the entrance to Constance Billard School for Girls, wearing their plaid skirts and white blouses, heads turned away from each other, their lunches and books strewn around them; a portrait of a shattered childhood friendship.

It was Serena that broke the silence with a voice choked with tears, eyes trained on her sister's profile. "I know your worth too, B."

Blair turned her head at the declaration, let Serena see her own eyes wet with tears. Let Serena see how much she _counted _on S knowing, because sometimes she did forget and she needed… she needed Serena to come through for her.

When Serena reached out and pulled Blair into a hug, Blair let her, went willingly. They wrapped their arms around each other tight and closed their eyes to block out the world.

Around them, the entryway and steps loomed empty while the windows and doorways stood full of prying eyes.

* * *

TBC.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Gossip Girl_.

**Author's Note**: Tis the conclusion... thank you all so much for reading and commenting.

* * *

_He was stroking her face with the back of his knuckles then trailing his fingertips into her hair; stroking it soothingly; his mouth was leaving a path of kisses across her jaw, one of his arms between her body and the mattress, tilting her into his chest, holding her against him tenderly, like the dream it was. _

_It all felt so good, so comforting, she let herself turn into his touch, turn into him; let herself slip further into the dream, smiling a little when he felt his hand skimming down the curve of her hip. _

"_Sweet dreams, Waldorf?" He whispered into her ear, breath warm against her skin, his voice…_

She tensed. His voice was… real.

She came instantly awake to the realization that Chuck Bass was not in her dreams, he was in her _bed. _

She gasped and screamed in one breath, shoving him back and ripping off her eye mask to glare directly into his smirking face.

"Chuck! What the hell!?" She cried, shoving him again and scrambling back away from him and reaching for the lamp on her night stand.

He chuckled, infinitely amused, she jumped off the bed as a dim light flooded the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I think it was fairly obvious… but I can certainly restage it for you if you'd like."

Blair wrapped her silk robe around herself while glaring darkly Chuck. "How did you even get in here!" She continued to yell, hating the way his presence unbalanced her.

He stretched out on her bed; put _her _pillows behind his head. "Security guard knows me, Blair," he reminded her, "I did expect to have dodge a certain maid or mother… imagine my… _delight_… when I found neither present."

She was pretty sure if she scowled any harder her face would freeze in that shape, so instead she drew herself up and cleared her expression. "My mother was delayed in Milan." She informed him.

And then he smiled at her-- that lazy, sensual smile that set every atom in her body on fire.

"Don't you _smile _at me, Chuck Bass! You can't just show up here and _molest _me in my sleep! What the hell is your problem?!"

The smile didn't fade or falter, "You didn't seem to mind the… molestation."

"I was asleep!" She yelled and then huffed, "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, I was hoping to _do--"_

She reached down, grabbed her other pillow and smacked him with it.

He laughed, held up his arms against the onslaught and gracefully slid off the bed. "Relax, I arrived in peace."

She dropped the pillow back on the bed, glared at him over the silk sheet they'd warmed.

"You avoided me today." He said finally, voice serious.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you know-- I was busy today."

"Yes, Gossip Girl did inform us all of your reconciliation with my dear sister."

"Right. So you know that I couldn't possibly--"

"And yet Serena was suspiciously teary tonight at dinner."

Blair arched an eyebrow, "Surely you don't expect I won't make her work for it, do you?"

He grinned and started coming around the bed towards her. "I suppose not… though that was quite the heartwarming embrace we were all blasted."

"I don't need to explain my— _anything_ to you, Chuck. Leave." She said haughtily with a toss of her hair and really hoped the dim light in the room hid the way her eyes were getting wider with every step that brought him nearer to her.

"Avoidance is beneath you, Waldorf," he drawled, coming up next to her; his gaze searching her face.

She took a step back, away from him. "It isn't the only thing beneath me I've done lately_."_

He followed her. "You do have a penchant for being on top…"

"You're disgusting. Get out." She told him, but even she had to admit there was no heat behind the words. "God…" she continued, "What time is it?" Maybe if she talked enough, moved around enough it would distract them.

"What have you concocted for my sister?"

"Is that why you came here?"

He was too close, leaning into her space. "No," he purred, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, "I came for you."

"Chuck… don't." She pulled away, turned her face; this couldn't happen. Not again.

"That's not what you were saying last night."

"It's what I'm saying now."

"Your eyes aren't matching your mouth again," he whispered.

And then he was kissing her—except that with Chuck it was never just a kiss. It started with heat simmering all over your body, with hands caressing you all over, then it was bodies pressed together and breaths quickening, it was your brain short circuiting as the heat boiled over and passion caused every logical thought you could have, should have, to flee for cover; it ended with suddenly finding yourself on top of your silk sheets, his weight pressing down on you, your body responding to his instinctively and every moment taking on the surreal quality of a dream…

Except this was real.

"No, no, Chuck, no…" she turned her face and pushed at his chest.

"Stop with the teasing."

"Stop coming on to me."

"You liked it last night."

She shoved him harder and he sighed loudly and then shifted off her, he dropped on the bed next to her so they were lying side by side for a moment, both breathing hard.

Blair stood, wrapping her robe around herself again. "Can you just… tell me why you're here… and then leave."

"You know me… I like to be on the ground floor…" he said then paused, stretching out on her bed, his feet on the floor. Her eyes drifted to the patch of skin that showed where his shirt rode up. "And there's always a scandal brewing inside that pretty head…"

She blinked and he was sitting up on the bed, smirking at her. She scowled and tuned away from him, moved to her make-up table and took a seat, crossing her legs demurely.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You said it yourself, Serena and I reconciled; there _is _no scandal."

"And _you_ said it _yourself_, you're going to make her work for it."

"I certainly didn't mean anything scandal worthy by that."

"So you are going to _let _her have your throne?"

She kept her face blank, but couldn't stop the tiny smirk that slid into her eyes.

And even in the dimly lit room, Chuck caught it.

He sat up straighter, studying her, "You _want _her to have it."

She said nothing.

He stood and came around the bed to take a seat on its other side, closer to her. "You've decided on wanting something else… what is it?"

And she scoffed, couldn't stop herself—it was fun to have Chuck guessing. "I have not."

He was silent after that and she could feel him willing her to speak, to tell him, but she was his equal in wills and all it did to her was bring out her smirk.

"You want to rule." He said softly, "It's what you do." His eyes raked over her, "But perhaps there's more than one way to rule…?"

She let herself smile, because was the kind of thing, kind of fun, she could only have with Chuck. "Hm, perhaps there is."

He smiled back. "What delicious game have you concocted for my darling sister?"

Her smile faded, as did her amusement, the subject of games and Serena was still a bit too tender. "No game," she whispered, looking away from him.

"No revenge?" He asked, "After what she did…?"

She looked back at him, arched an eyebrow, "And what would you know about it?" She questioned him, proud of herself for keeping her tone even.

No one knew why. A gossip girl blast had delivered the news of the falling out, rhyming it with sentences on secrets and stars; but the words spoken, the _reason_, no one knew.

Not even Chuck.

"I know it's changed you." He said as seriously as her eyes were watching him.

She looked away again, there were times when being _seen _wasn't such a wonderful thing. She couldn't tell him, it was bad enough that he saw; if she told him—about the truths you didn't say and new games you could never acknowledge, about the unfairness and the hurt, she made it real. If she told him, she _let _him see her, and if she did that, he won.

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, Chuck. Better to focus on the future."

"How wise of you, Waldorf." He didn't believe a word of it, "And your future has…?"

"Has plans of introducing Constance-Billard to the concept of a prime minster."

He blinked at her a moment, before that slow smile spread across his face again.

She let herself enjoy it, bask in it a moment, before standing and saying tightly, "So now you know and can take your leave…" She motioned towards the door of her bedroom.

As was his custom, he ignored what didn't suit him. "No plans for a coup..." he stood, coming closer, she steadfastly did not look at him. "Instead," he continued, "Plans to make the monarchy irrelevant."

He titled her chin upwards with his hand, "You are a marvel." He leaned in for a kiss; she turned her face, suddenly tired.

He hadn't come here to learn of her plans or even to have sex with her—though both would have a bonus no doubt.

He had come here for something else and she knew what it was. And she knew that she couldn't have it, couldn't do it. She couldn't take that risk right now, being with Chuck; not after this summer, after Marcus, after Serena… her heart had been broken enough this year.

And being with Chuck, it was a gamble she couldn't take right now; if she lost, she wouldn't survive another broken heart.

"Tell me why you came here." She said to him.

His arms came down to his sides and they just watched each other.

"Let me be your ally, we can--"

She shook her head, that was enough, that was all she needed to end this.

"There is no _we, _no _us. _There is me and there is you and there is the things we do in the dark."

She made herself not see his wince. "I cannot be…" she continued, also ignoring the lump rising in her throat, "Diverted."

She had decided this while she and Serena had sipped lattes that afternoon; had decided that she could forgive her sister, but she could not forget. She could not forget how _hurt_ she had been, how unfair Serena had been, but mostly she could not forget how _blindsided _she had been the by the entire thing. How she hadn't even remotely considered that Serena would turn on her in such a way.

She hadn't been strong enough to let her sister fall; but she had to _become_ strong enough.

Chuck said nothing, he waited for her to continue, and that alone made her eyes burn. She wished she could take a chance on him, she wished she could expend the little faith she had left on _them._

"She needs me, she _uses _me. I'm going to change that. I have to focus on changing that. No one _uses _me. Do you understand?"

Her words did something, they flicked a switch somehow. Chuck flinched at them, took a step back, away from her as something dark flashed over his face, in his eyes.

And she felt goosebumps rise all over her skin as she watched his face go blank, watched his expression become the mask he wore for the world.

His eyes filled with an odd mix of angry and haunted; and she knew even before he spoke, that he understood all too well.

"I do," he said in a voice too soft.His gaze dropped from hers then, like he was contemplating his next move.

Looking at his face, she knew there was something deeper to those words, something bleak. She swallowed hard, suddenly experiencing a feeling of dizziness, of the entire room spinning and the two of them at the epicenter of it; saying nothing, feeling too much, wanting too much…

She's reaching for his arm before she can stop herself, but he's finally doing as she's asked—he's leaving her bedroom. She wants to say something, to ask about that flash of darkness, about this sudden acquiescence; to ask why he understands, why the goodbye smirk he's shooting her looks so broken.

But he's moving past her and she can't be diverted, so she lets him.

And when he's gone, when she's heard the soft click of the door, then she walks over to her lamp and she shuts it off. And she climbs into bed and she slips her eye mask on. And she pulls the sheets up to her chin and she does _not _cry.

* * *

--Fin.

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**Author Notes #2**: I really do believe that Chuck and Blair belong together… just not yet. :P I also believe that the kind of hurt Serena inflicted on Blair won't be forgotten, ever. And that when the cards are laid out Blair will come through for Serena, every time; but until then, Blair needs to stack her deck with the idea of _choice _not _obligation_.

Once again, thank you so much for reading this and commenting. My forays into "Gossip Girl" are very new and I'm enjoying the fandom greatly. :)

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